Flames
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Alby is the only single guy in the gang...until he meets a strikingly handsome tattoo artist, and feels his whole world go up in flames.
1. Chapter 1

Flames: Part One

**So. This is a two-part fanfic about a certain character I never wrote about. (Oops) I loved the idea as soon as it came to me and had a lot of fun writing this. Hope you like it! Also, I don't really know how a business like this works, so I did my best describing it. Please don't judge me if it's less-than-realistic.

And yeah, the pairing is a little random, but I wanted to try it because no one really did it before XD And I don't know what Jorge looked like (did the book ever describe him that well?) so this is how I imagined him.

Anway, enjoy! Reviews, please? :) **

...

It was about midday, in the middle of a beautiful Friday, when a black-haired guy walked into Dragonfire Tattoos. First thought about him: holy CRAP.

"Oh my god. Jorge, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Aris was standing beside his friend, peering over his shoulder to sneak a look at the new customer. He was supposed to be studying the multitude of pictures on the wall in front of them, to see if there were any old, unpopular designs to take down. (The pictures were put up for people who couldn't decide what kind of tattoo they wanted and needed choices)

"Oh, I see him all right." Jorge couldn't help but send sideways glances over at the customer too. He tried to hide it, tugging at the hem of his black T-shirt and casting his eyes down at the neon purple Dragonfire logo printed on the front.

"He is scrumptious," Aris said lowly, mouth quirking into a grin. His almond-colored eyes flickered playfully.

Jorge gave him a look. "'Scrumptious?'" he repeated flatly. "Really?"

"Fine then. He's not 'scrumptious.' He's absolutely, unbelievably, please-drag-me-to-a-shucking-bed SEXY."

Jorge looked over at the guy again and shrugged with one shoulder. A half-smile tugged at his mouth. "Guess I can't argue with that."

Aris rubbed his palms together as the guy started to come toward them. "I got dibs," he said.

"No way," Jorge scoffed. "I own the place; I get dibs on tattooing him."

"What?" Aris asked, voice high in comical outrage. "But I wanna tattoo him!"

"Too late, already called it," Jorge replied lightly. Aris grumbled under his breath in return, and Jorge winked teasingly. "Oh, and since you're not busy, get those new designs up, okay, hermano?" Aris looked ready to hit him, so he chose that moment to leave, walking across the room toward his newest customer. The guy was even better-looking up close, with a spiked shock of hair and smooth, olive-toned skin. He also had a body laced with muscle, so yeah, overall, he was as a sexy as Aris said.

The corner of the guy's mouth turned up as Jorge came closer. "Hey," he greeted, in a smooth voice. There was a bit of light in his obsidian eyes as he asked, "are you the guy I'm supposed to see to get a tattoo around here?"

"The one and only," Jorge replied, spreading his arms briefly in a gesture of bravado. Then he held out a hand welcomingly. "I'm Jorge. I own Dragonfire."

"Oh, cool," the guy said. There was genuine feeling in his voice. He shook Jorge's hand. "My name's Minho."

"Okay, Minho." Jorge shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and raised his eyebrows. "What kind of tattoo are you thinking about getting?"

Minho shifted his feet. "Well, I was thinking you could do something like this..." He fished around in the back pocket of his dark jeans and pulled out an iPhone; scrolling through it, he flipped it around to show a picture to Jorge.

Jorge blinked in surprise. It was a simple design: a capital N written in a spidery, lovely script. It wouldn't take a horribly long time. "Yeah, I could do that, no problem," he told Minho. "Any special reason you want an N?"

A tint of blush appeared in Minho's face. "It, um," he laughed sheepishly. "It stands for Newt."

"You gotta thing for newts?" Jorge asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Hell no," Minho chuckled. "It's a nickname. My...husband's name is Isaac Newton. We all call him Newt." He smiled then, the lovestruck smile that came from talking about someone close to you. It was adorable.

Damn, he was taken. But Jorge didn't mind much. It was very cute to see this guy coming to get a tattoo like this. It didn't happen very often. He grinned. "Isaac Newton's his name? That's awesome." He peered at the picture again, more carefully. "So where do you want it?"

"Um, here." Minho pointed to his chest, the place directly over his heart. The blush rose even more in his cheeks.

"It's gonna look great," Jorge told him warmly. Then he glanced around the somewhat-crowded room of customers in chairs, and tattoo artists at work. "Hope you don't mind taking your shirt off in public, though."

"Eh, I'll live," Minho joked.

"All right then, follow me." Jorge started for his station near the middle of the room, already thinking about how he was going to do this, how long it would take. "Is this your first tattoo?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Yeah, but I think I'll be fine," Minho replied, unworried.

"If you're sure..." Jorge stopped by the chair and turned back to smile at Minho. "Okay, let's get started then."

With only a bit of self-consciousness, Minho took the hem of his white tee and peeled it off in one motion. Jorge immediately thought that whoever this Newt was, he was one lucky bastard. Minho scrubbed the back of his neck as more than a few stares came his way. Every single girl in the room (and Aris, who was gawking like he'd never seen a six-pack before) let out a long, dreamy sigh.

Jorge just rolled his eyes. "Let's get this over with before someone faints."

~Later That Day~

Well, it had been a long day.

Which was good, in some ways, and bad in others. Good because it had been busy, always moving, always something to do. Business was good. Bad because Jorge was now exhausted. He'd been happy with Minho's tattoo; it turned out great and he'd gotten a glowing smile in return. But now, he wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. Stifling a yawn, he pulled his phone from his pocket and checked the time. He was the last person there, and outside, the sky was already deepening into sunset. Definitely time to go crash onto a bed. Snagging his leather jacket from a chair, he strode across the wide room to the front door. He had his arm out, reaching to pull it open, when suddenly, it swung open on its own.

And he came face to face with the most attractive guy he'd ever seen.

Both of them froze in place, blinking wide-eyed at each other; they were both caught off-guard by this. Eyebrows rising, Jorge took in smooth, dusky skin, eyes like black coffee, and a flawless face. The guy was as tall as him, had strong shoulders, and looked damn good in faded Levi's. Jorge found himself opening his mouth with no words coming out.

The guy let out a nervous laugh. "Um, sorry about busting in here like this," he apologized. His voice was low and lovely, like the deep tones of a saxophone. He ran a hand over his short, midnight-black hair. "My friend left his phone here by accident and since I was in town, I figured I'd pick it up for him. I hope you don't mind. I know you were about to lock up."

Jorge found his voice and smile again. "It's not a problem," he replied, waving a hand dismissively. He stepped back to give room for the guy to pass. "People leave stuff in here sometimes, so I'm used to it by now. What kind of phone is it?"

The guy walked into the room slowly, scanning the clean white floor and black-and-purple walls, strewn with pictures in organized chaos. "It's an iPhone," he answered absently, still searching. "In, uh, a blue case."

"Blue?" A memory pricked at Jorge's mind. He'd only seen a couple iPhones today and only one had been showing a picture to him. "Is your friend a guy named Minho?"

The other guy glanced sharply at him in surprise. "Yeah, he is," he replied. "You remember him?"

"Course I do," Jorge said, shrugging with one shoulder. "I'm the one who worked on his tattoo today. He showed me the picture on his phone."

"Really? You did his tattoo?" At Jorge's nod, the guy broke into a dazzling grin. "Man, he loves it. Couldn't wait to show Newt when I saw him. You're pretty good. He said it looked just like what he wanted."

Jorge was shocked to find that he was looking away from this handsome stranger, bashful under the praise. "Thanks," he said, nearly mumbling. Mumbling! He was Jorge, the owner of Dragonfire, the confident, never-shy tattoo artist! And he was mumbling because a guy (a beautiful, stunning guy) complimented him! What was the world coming to? He shook the thought away. "Um. He was over here, so the phone's probably around the chair somewhere..."

The other guy trailed behind as Jorge walked back to his station. He ducked his head quickly to glance under the chair, then straightened up when it wasn't there. A flash of royal blue caught his eye though, and he found it at last, lying on top of the chair itself. It must've slipped out of Minho's pocket by accident. Jorge plucked it up and turned to Minho's friend. "Found it," he announced triumphantly.

"Awesome," the guy remarked, reaching out to take the phone. Their fingers brushed as it passed between them. Shoving the phone into his pocket, the guy turned a soulful gaze on Jorge. "Hey, thanks...er...what's your name?"

"Jorge."

"Well, thanks, Jorge. My name's Alby, by the way."

Alby. Jorge didn't know what it was about it, but he decided he liked that name. A lot.

Alby abruptly sighed, gazing out at the bleeding rays of sunlight. "I'd better get going," he said, perhaps a bit reluctantly. "Gotta get this back to Minho before he throws a fit, looking for it."

For some reason, Jorge's heart sank a little. "Oh." He forced the disappointment out of his expression. "Tell him I said hi, okay?"

"I will." Alby smiled his open, breathtaking smile again. He lifted one hand in farewell. "See you later, Jorge." He was already backing toward the door.

"See ya." Jorge waved back with a half-grin. The door banged shut again. Quiet fell over the room, leaving him standing there alone in the middle of the floor. He stared at the closed door for a long long moment. Part of him wished it would open again. But it didn't. He shook his head at his own foolishness and followed Alby's path out the door. Once outside, the cool evening air prompted him to shrug into his jacket with a shiver. The sky overhead was stained with orange and red, brilliant in the dying light. Turning around, Jorge locked the door behind him. With a final glance at Dragonfire Tattoos, he started off down the sidewalk. Finally, he could go home.

But, curiously, as he walked, he realized he couldn't get the image of striking, dark eyes out of his head.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

**Hey! If you read part one, then thanks for checking out my little story. Here's part two. And I'm planning on writing more for these two. (Mainly because I have fallen in love with Jorge's character, who is a lot of fun to write about)

Enjoy the story! Leave a review? :)**

Alby didn't know what he was doing here.

He was standing beside Brenda in the morning sunlight, out on the sidewalk. They were both facing the windows and front door of Dragonfire Tattoos. Inside, there were already customers chatting with tattoo artists and work beginning. He could see a younger guy with tanned skin and short, dark hair, talking to a girl near a wall of pictures. But it wasn't who he wanted to see.

Brenda nudged his arm with an elbow. "What're you staring at in there?" she asked curiously. A smile lifted the side of her mouth.

"Nothing," he answered quickly. He tried for an innocent expression. "Just, uh...nothing."

"Mm-hm," she hummed disbelievingly. She smoothed out her denim skirt with an air of loftiness. "I'm onto you, Alby. You've been acting strange since last night."

Alby snorted. "You act strange all the time. You don't see me questioning it, now do you?"

"No, but—Hey!" He sniggered at her outraged look, and she smacked his arm indignantly in return. "Rude. Let's go in already. I need help deciding on this."

"I thought you brought me to be your help."

"I brought you because you said you wanted to come."

"Oh. Right."

"Now, come on!" Brenda skipped to the door and pushed it open, letting out a pleasant buzz of conversation. Her maple-brown eyes gleamed. "I wanna see if I can get that hottie over there to tattoo a tiger on my back!"

Alby's eyes widened as he hurried after her. "A TIGER?!" he echoed worriedly. "Brenda, wait up!" He slowed as he entered the room, Brenda's tattoo choice momentarily forgotten. He gazed around in faint curiosity. The place looked different in the daylight, when it was full of people. Customers sat in chairs in varying positions, depending on where they were getting tattooed. Artists bent over their work, hardly glancing up as Alby passed them. He caught a glimpse of ink every now and then, in different colors. Absently, he wondered if a certain someone had a tattoo hidden somewhere, a someone named—

"JORGE!"

Brenda's squeal made Alby's head jerk up. He gaped when he saw her, tight braid flopping at her back as she threw a taller guy into a hug. With a jolt of shock, he recognized Jorge.

"I can't believe it, I haven't seen you in so long!" Brenda gushed, drawing back again. "You OWN Dragonfire?"

"I told you I wanted to start my own business, didn't I?" Jorge asked in reply, smiling back at her.

"Well, yeah, but I didn't think—Oh!" She broke off abruptly, noticing that Alby had approached and was staring at them in astonishment. She beamed at Jorge. "Sorry, I guess I should introduce you! This is—"

"Jorge," Alby finished for her. He met Jorge's eyes and one side of his mouth turned up.

Jorge's eyebrows rose when he realized who this was, and now he grinned. "Alby," he greeted with a small nod.

Brenda glanced between them. "You guys already met? Was this last night?"

"Yep," Jorge answered easily. "When he came to get Minho's phone."

"No way, cool!" Brenda exclaimed, looking even happier.

Alby pointed at her and Jorge. "So how'd you two meet?" he asked.

"We took art classes together!" she replied gleefully. She took Jorge's arm in a sort of half-hug. "Jorge's like my big brother. He fought off all the stupid idiots and one ex-boyfriend for me. Told me his big dream was to be an artist and start his own business." Her voice went all dreamy during the last part and she playfully leaned against Jorge's shoulder.

Jorge rolled his eyes, turning pink. "Whatever." Then he turned to Alby. "She drives you crazy too?"

"All the time," Alby replied, ignoring Brenda's glare. He couldn't stop looking at Jorge. He couldn't help it. The tattoo artist's adorably tousled, black hair fell in a jagged sweep over his forehead. His eyes were very dark, but one iris had a tiny streak of pure emerald. He wore a pair of red Converse shoes, with tight jeans and a loose,wide-necked hoodie. Utter perfection.

"So you wanna get tattooed, or what?" Jorge asked Brenda, jerking Alby out of his thoughts. He pointed toward a dark-skinned girl near the front windows. "Harriet over there can help you pick something out."

Brenda blinked. "I thought you were going to help me," she said in a bit of disappointment.

"I would but, uh, there's something I gotta take care of first." Jorge's gaze flicked to Alby as he spoke. The glance sent little tingles over Alby's skin.

"All right." Brenda started off, pausing only to wave over her shoulder at them. "See ya when I'm done, Alby!" She winked and practically danced her way over to Harriet. That girl really was crazy sometimes.

Once alone, the two guys looked at each other. Alby raised one eyebrow. "Art classes with Brenda, huh? How was THAT?"

"Interesting," Jorge chuckled. "I hate to say it, but she was nuts. She was my best friend, practically hermana, but she was NUTS."

Alby cocked his head. "Hermana?" he repeated in confusion. He'd heard a faint accent in Jorge's voice, but he hadn't known what it was.

"Spanish for 'sister.'" Jorge ran a hand through his hair. "Forgot that I'm the only Spanish guy around here." He gave Alby a funny look. "So did YOU come here to get a tattoo, or are you moral support for her?"

"Actually..." Alby dropped his gaze to his shoes. "...I came to see you."

"Me?" There was a cute blush in Jorge's face now. "Why would you want to see me?"

Maybe it was because Jorge was nervous now, but Alby felt a burst of confidence. He took a step closer to Jorge. "Because you're gorgeous," he said quietly, letting a smirk tug at his lips. Oh it felt great to be a tease.

Jorge's lips parted. A shy sound of laughter left him. "Are you flirting with me, Alby?" he asked, surprise and delight in his words. He slung his thumbs in the pocket of his hoodie.

"I think I am, yeah," Alby replied, enjoying this way too much. Then he thought of something and stammered, losing his confidence. "I mean, unless you're like, seeing someone. Or...yeah."

"I'm not seeing anyone," Jorge told him. He tipped his head to one side, making his black hoodie slip off one shoulder. A glimpse of black ink marked his skin between his shoulder and neck, disappearing down his back. "What about you?"

Alby wanted to see the rest of that tattoo so much, it burned. "No," he managed. "No one."

"Maybe we could change that." Jorge was smirking now.

Alby's heart was racing in his chest. "I...We...Um."

Jorge laughed. "Shuck it, Alby," he murmured, closing the space between them. "Just kiss me." And he brushed his lips onto Alby's.

Alby froze as gasps rose around them. He thought about pulling away. But Jorge's mouth was so soft and he smelled so good, like peppermint. Alby angled his head and kissed back tentatively, eyes drifting closed. It was short, but it still sent flames down his spine. It seemed to hint at more to come, more days spent together, more laughter, more kisses, more shared moments. He wouldn't mind that. He wouldn't mind that at all.

When they broke apart, people were whispering to each other and smiling, and tattoo artists were wolf-whistling. Brenda took one look and cheered like a lunatic. Alby looked into Jorge's mocha-brown eyes, at that gleam of green in the left iris. Shuck, he really was stunning. Jorge was grinning. He arched an eyebrow at Alby. "So, what was that you said, about me being gorgeous?" he asked lightly.

"And humble too," Alby joked sarcastically.

Jorge shrugged. "Hard to be humble when I got a lot to brag about," he replied.

"Like what?"

"My incredibly attractive boyfriend."

Alby's face burned self-consciously. "So I'm your boyfriend now?" he asked teasingly.

"Only if you want to be mine." Jorge winked, sending a shiver through Alby's body.

And yes.

Yes he wanted to.

**PS: Anyone else wanna see Jorge's tattoo as much as Alby? ;)**


End file.
